Theatre Review: Shaolin Warriors

DAVID ZAMPATTIThe West Australian

Shaolin Warriors

Burswood Theatre

By a happy coincidence, there were two teams of 22 gladiators on display at the Burswood Entertainment Complex last Friday night. In the grand ballroom the West Coast Eagles were being adored by their fans at their club champion dinner, while in the theatre next door an equally enthusiastic crowd cheered on warriors of the Shaolin martial arts variety.

Wouldn't that make for an interesting fantasy contest? Could Nic Naitanui match the Shaolins' athletic aerials? Are Daniel Kerr's hands faster than a kung fu swordmaster? And - with the greatest of respect --is Beau Waters really such a hard man after all?

Certainly, after two hours of extraordinary leaps, blink-of-an-eye weaponry and nerve-jangling physical peril from the Shaolin Warriors, you might have cause to wonder.

Unlike the mere quarter-century-old football club, of course, there's been a monastery at Shaolin since the fifth century and records of the monks in combat date from the seventh century. By the 16th century, kung fu was an integral and famous part of Shaolin monastic life, exported throughout China and into Japan, Korea and Okinawa.

"Brand" is an appropriate word here, because Shaolin kung fu has become a secular phenomenon up there with the Cirque du Soleil franchise, the Blue Men and the various Celtic hoofers and Dutch fiddlers of present renown. These performers, most from poor rural communities in Shandong and Henan provinces, may not be monks, but they are brought up and live like them, spending long days from very early ages training and mastering their art. Indeed, this production's story of a boy's journey from initiation to full warrior status features two lads who couldn't be more than 11 or 12 but could only have achieved their staggering strength and supple skill after many years of training.

Along the way we see a generous range of Shaolin signature routines, from stunts with nails and razor-sharp swords to the smashing of metal bars and stout wooden staffs on heads and arms, mind-boggling physical contortions and marvellous leaps and bounds. There's also some charming by-play, especially when the performers herded a bunch of wide-eyed kids (including a youngster of my tribe) on to the stage to take them through some hilariously cute routines.

It's not perfect. There's a jarring fusion of mediocre Occidental and Oriental incidental music not far enough behind the action, which is sometimes surprisingly poorly staged, given the quality of the performances, but it looks beautiful, it's hugely entertaining and, even if the philosophical underpinning of the arts on display is only fleetingly and shallowly touched on, the warriors have an authenticity that disarms and delights.

And Beau, I'd be thinking long and hard before I took these hard men on!

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